Unknown Territory
by Haley1993
Summary: An abandoned Anne is adopted by a nice family, and finds out she has a gift. Yeah, I'm bad at summaries.
1. Default Chapter

Unknown Territory  
  
I leaned against the bark of the old willow tree. The branches reached over my damp head. Droplets of cold water washed down from the sad sky. I was depressed and bitterly sad.  
Only a few people were unfortunate enough to experience this kind of pain. Your whole body was engrossed with misery and torment. Cold needles shoot through your body, or so it seems.  
My parents had abandoned me. They didn't want me, no one wanted me. I was forced to live on the streets alone. I got by by eating berries and fruit from trees and bushes. I've never tasted meat, or candy, in my life.  
It had been like that for 13 years. I never wandered around; I stayed in one place, by the old willow tree. I didn't know what I looked like, for I have never seen myself in a mirror, and I didn't have a name.  
My eyes wandered around the empty field, searching for someone to hold me, and make it all better. As my eyes gazed out into the wide, open space I saw something interesting. It was whitish-grey, like clouds, only it was coming up from behind a hill. For 13 years I have stayed in the same place, but today, I decided to explore.  
I grabbed a handful of berries and headed off. Many feelings took over my mind: Fear, worry, and excitement. As I got closer to the mysterious grey clouds, I found out where they were coming from. It was coming from a brick chimney, and underneath that, was a charming brick home. I was curious, so I knocked on the door.  
A woman was standing there. She had short, light-colored hair with pale blue eyes.  
"Hello? May I help you?" she asked. Her voice was soft and pleasant, like silk. She stared down at me with a half-smile on her face.  
"Uhhh, w-well, I-I don't know. You see, I was abandoned when I was born, and f-forced to live on the s-streets. I live by the old willow t- tree. And anyway, I saw grey stuff coming out from your home, and I was curious, so . . ." I stammered. The woman's face changed into a shocked expression.  
"Oh, poor dear, what is your name?"  
"I-I don't have a name," I blinked back tears.  
"Oh, honey, come in, please come in!" the woman exclaimed. I obeyed her and walked in. "Have some of my pork chops!" She hurried into another room and came out with with some pinkish-brown things on a plate. The woman smiled down at me, and I took a bite. Those 'pork chops' were the most delicious things I have ever tasted in my life.  
  
"Mmmmmm!!! These are soo good!" I exclaimed.  
  
"Thank you, dear!" the woman seemed pleased. She looked at me with her calming blue eyes. "Honey, call me Mrs. Thompson."  
  
"Why?" I asked.  
  
"We're going to adopt you!" Mrs. Thompson exclaimed.  
"Adopt me?" I cried, "But, I mean, this is the first time you've ever looked at me, your husband hasn't even met me yet! You-you, can't p- possibly make a decision this fast!"  
"Oh, but dear, you see, we've been watching you, out by the old willow tree for all these years. After a while, we decided we wanted to adopt you, we were just waiting for the right time. And, I believe this is the perfect time," she said calmly. I was in stunned. After 13 years of misery and tears, I was finally getting adopted. But, I didn't feel how I thought I would feel. Instead of feeling thrilled and happy, I was, well, sort of wistful.  
I spent the night there, and in the morning Mrs. and Mr. Thompson drove down to a place to fill out some papers for my adoption. The car trip was less than pleasant.  
"Ooo, I don't feel to well," I moaned. My stomach flipped all the way to the building.  
After a short while, Mr. Thompson signed the last paper and we headed back to the house. When we got back to the house, Mrs. Thompson showed me around the house. Most of the rooms were nice, and had a very soft flooring. Mrs. Thompson stopped at one particular room. It had a funny looking thing that had white and black little rectangles.  
"This is the piano room, and I'm going to teach you how to play the piano!" Mrs. Thompson exclaimed. She pointed to the funny looking thing.  
"Piano?" I questioned her.  
"Yes! Go over and press down on those white and black things," she told me. I obeyed her and sat down on the bench and pressed down on those keys. Mrs. Thompson looked like she was expecting a horrible sound. I hesitated, but Mrs. Thompson gave me a reassuring smile.  
A pretty sound came out when I pressed the keys.  
"Anne!" Mrs. Thompson exclaimed. I stopped playing abruptly.  
"Who's Anne?" I asked.  
"Honey, that's your real name, we checked your birth certificate. Anne, play that again!" I repeated what I played before. "Amazing, Anne, I think you have a gift for playing the piano!" 


	2. Betrayal

Chapter 2: Betrayal  
  
"Gift?" I questioned. Mrs. Thompson ignored me and kept rambling on.  
"Oh . . . we'll get books, then you'll play at concerts, they will sell out! You will become famous!!" Mrs. Thompson cried. I had no idea what famous meant, but it had to be good. You don't say ordinary things that excitedly.  
"What's famous -" Mrs. Thompson jerked me away before I could finish.  
"We have to get piano books!" she wailed. Mrs. Thompson practically ran into her car. When the car stopped we were at a small, red building. My door swung open and wind rushed onto me. I closed my eyes and held out my arms to block the gust.  
"COME ON!!!" she screamed, while grabbing my hand. She walked briskly to the front door, me stumbling behind her.  
"Mrs. Thompson . . . don't you think you are getting too excited? I mean, I only played a tiny bit, and you are getting hysterical," I said, trying not to be rude. Mrs. Thompson stopped abruptly and turned around to face me. Her face did not look too happy.  
"Don't you EVER smart off with me," Mrs. Thompson snapped, "And call me MOM, not this 'Mrs. Thompson', you here me? MOM!" I was shocked at her attitude. I didn't say anything the rest of the day. I was too ashamed, and shocked. Tears fell onto my lip, my face was blotchy and red. I sat in the corner of my unfurnished room. I have gone through many horrible things in my life, and not have anyone to turn to. But now, I have someone I could turn to, and when that someone lets you down, it's more than you can handle. Was I supposed to be this sad?  
I noticed something small on the floor. It was silvery and flicked light all over the room.  
  
A knife.  
  
It was a tiny knife, my hand covered the entire handle part. Horrible thoughts flamed in my mind. My entire life seemed to flash in front of my eyes. I had a bleak and meaningless existence. Nobody cared, no one wanted me. It had been like for 13 years.  
No longer was this about Mrs. Thompson, this was about me . . .  
I lifted the knife above my beating chest, and closed my watery eyes.  
"I was never meant to be here, I am invisible to the country, invisible to the world . . ." 


	3. Answers

CHAPTER 3: ANSWERS  
  
The blade was only a few inches away from my chest when someone knocked at the door.  
"Who-who's there?" I asked shakily.  
"It's Mr. Thompson, I mean Dad, I'm coming in," a deep voice bellowed through the door. Alarmed, I frantically looked for a place to put the knife. The knob turned and I started hyperventilating.  
"Anne, how come you are shaking like that?" Mr. Thompson said, puzzled. Mr. Thompson was big man with wispy black hair with grey streaks here and there.  
"Uh, um, nothing, nothing, everything is fine," I stuttered. The man looked at my hands which were tucked behind my back.  
"What are you holding Anne?" he asked gently.  
"Oh, um . . . it's, it's . . ."  
"Anne, tell me what's behind your back!" Mr. Thompson said, a little more sternly.  
"Well, you see . . ." I gasped.  
"ANNE, WHAT IS BEHIND YOUR BACK?" he yelled. He grabbed hold of my arm and yanked it so he could see what was there. I looked up at him with frightened eyes. His mouth was shaped into an O, with his cheeks reddened. With that same face, Mr. Thompson walked over and sat on the ground. I followed him guiltily with tears just waiting to fall out of my eyes. My face was as red as his.  
"Anne, were you, were you trying to commit suicide?" Mr. Thompson said quietly. I looked at my knife with longing eyes.  
"Yes," I whispered, my voice cracking.  
"Anne, I understand you've had a rough life, but . . . you can't just commit suicide!"  
"YES I CAN!! You don't understand! Mrs. Thompson was yelling at me and, and I just can't take it anymore! I thought I was going to be happy here! Finally, after 13 years of PAIN AND MISERY, I thought I would finally have a break! I was happy for a bit, but then . . . then, everything just went bad! Mrs. Thompson, she, she betrayed me!! I don't know if you know what it feels like for someone to let you down, but I do," I cried, throwing my fists.  
"Anne, you wanted to kill yourself JUST because someone you liked betrayed you?" Mr. Thompson said.  
"No, it's not just that! All of this, this emotion, I don't know what emotion it was, it was like pain, and fury, and sadness and it just bottled up and I just wanted to escape!" I blurted out, "I wanted to go to a good place, where nothing went wrong, and I don't know! It was just . . . I don't know . . ." I teared up again.  
"You know, I've been married to Mrs. Thompson for 10 years, and not one year was good," he said sadly.  
"What do you mean?" I said a little more calm.  
"Well, we got married 10 years ago. We had two children, but Mrs. Thompson, she-she, she killed them. She hates children-"  
"Then why did she adopt me?"  
"She wants to make you miserable, she wants to abuse you, and at the same time, she gets money for adopting you.  
"WHAT? THAT'S HORRIBLE! YOU HAVE TO TELL SOMEONE!!!" I wailed.  
"I can't dear, she threatens me with a gun every time I try to go out of this house."  
"So you are saying, for the past 10 years, you have not once been out of this house?"  
"Yes, dear, she's evil, she has problems. Serious problems." Mr. Thompson was actually had tears in his eyes this time, too. We both were silent for a few minutes.  
"DINNER!!!!!!!!!!" a female voice cried out. 


End file.
